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Mafia Music

This song is by Rick Ross and appears on the album Deeper Than Rap (2009).

I got a feelin' nigga really that my money be da root.
Look up at da stars, she like "Honey where the roof?"
Pull up in a Dawes (?), canaries (?) dey go on roof,
Even once had a job pourin tar up on da roof.
That boy had it hard, no facade it's da truth,
So now when I menage and get massaged it's the proof.
Proof's in the pudding and that baking soda taken,
Paper that I'm makin', gotta take them photos naked.
Listenin to niggas like whistlin at Wendy Williams,
I flip my middle finger, I'm chillin' on twenty million.
The rumors turn me on I'm masterbatin' at the top,
These hoes so excited so they catchin' every drop.
I'm dodgin debacles like pot holes in Jamaica,
We cut down the weed, bury the paper on them acres.
Martin had a dream, Bob got high,
I still do both but somehow I got by.

Preflo prayed, Mike Vick paid,
Bobby Brown strayed, Whitney lost weight.
Kimbo Slice on the pad when I write,
That may why the money lookin' funny in the light.
But who really cares? You just throw it in the air,
Celebratin' wealth, pourin Moët in her hair-
Excuse me, her weeve- the bluest of weed,
Trunk full of white, car smell like bleu cheese.
That boy get salad, beef bout movements,
BM dubs on them big thangs lookin' foolish.
Shawty sittin' low, big thangs poppin',
Tip on the glock from a trip up in Compton.
Shootin at da cops- fuck one time.
I gave her to the block, I fucked one time.
We Boyz-N-the-Hood and nigga you Lil' Trey,
Suppress your appetite, we taking your lil' tray.
Love my handgun but my chopper still the shit,
Banned in 1994 but I'm too legit to quit.
1996, kilos was the shit,
But that were better than roofin' that shit be bad for your skin.
Niggas was ruthless, lord knows that I sinned,
But I thought about my future and the loops I could pin.
Walked out on a gig and I turned to the streets,
Kept my name low key, I ain't heard from in weeks.
I came up with a strategy to come up mathematically,
I did it for the city but now everybody mad at me.
Mothafuck 'em all, they sweat from my balls,
If I drop another album I did that for my dawgs.
10 Maybachs, everybody ridin' big,
I just sit back like: Look what I did.
Then I bow my head and beg for forgiveness,
Once I said my prayer, everybody back to business.

Smokin' on a blunt in my own restaurant,
People lookin' from a distance think I'm Big Daddy Kunk,
Reincarnated, spirit of a G.
Beef? I'll make you dinner, take a seat so we could eat.
A Farrakhan aura, pause on the pork,
You eat from the bowl while your dog need a fork.
Niggas ain't loyal, snakes slithered and they coil,
I'm laughin' at you 'cause, kill you niggas when I'm bored.

We steppin' on your crew till the muthafuckas crushed,
And makin' sweet love to every women that you lust.
I love to pay her bills, can't wait to pay her rent,
Curtis Jackson baby mama ain't askin' for a cent.
Burn the house down, we gotta buy another,
Don't forget the gas can, jealous, stupid muthafucka.
To another chapter, paper that I captured,
Caught up in the rapture of gunshots and laughter.
Homicide is human and nigga you lookin' funny,
Women love to stare 'cause they know they see the money.
I open up a mind by openin' bank accounts,
Deposit a 100 stacks, break up won't take it out.
Baby that's a gift, maybe you could live,
I knew it wouldn't work, but I just like to give.
Used to run the street- young nigga, bare feet,
Now I'm in the suites and I'm eatin' crab meats.
Ice so right, other rappers envy,
They callin' all my jewelers up askin' "what he spendin?"
Thinkin' bout Boss, not thinkin' 'bout them,
This a letter to my enemies, one I won't send.

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